


Clowns Can Be Sad Too.

by avariciousChaos



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: And I'm projecting, Character Bashing, Gamzee is tired and sad, Not Canon Compliant, Other, only a little tho, sorry - Freeform, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-15 14:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21254855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avariciousChaos/pseuds/avariciousChaos
Summary: Gamzee is above all else tired of the bullshit." With (surprisingly) steady hands, he lit them and took a second to watch the flames dance. He dropped his head forward closed his eyes and for the first time since the End he prayed."So yeah, this is a vent piece. Rated for me being angry and curse words.





	1. Mourning

A lot of the others thought his religion was a joke. It wasn’t, not to him. To him it was guidance, it was a comfort for things beyond physical and beyond what any moirail could soothe. And he supposed that’s why he was doing his now. He had set up a small altar in one of the unused and out of the way rooms in the compound (none of them could bear to be alone after the game). He kneeled in front of his shrine and placed black candles in the three holders. With (surprisingly) steady hands, he lit them and took a second to watch the flames dance. He dropped his head forward closed his eyes and for the first time since the End he prayed.

He was about halfway through his repetitions (or was he doing extra? He lost count, he's been kneeling for _hours_ though) when he heard footsteps. There was only one person who knew about this room. The door opened and he thought about how easy it would be to make them fuck off if he wanted (if he cared).

“Gamzee?” And god, doesn’t that hurt? The concern, the false blasphemous concern.

“Hey Karb-,” he takes a breath (he can’t call him that he can’t), “Karkat. What can I do for you?” He doesn’t turn around. He knows that Karkat knows what that means.

“You…you were praying?” He walks closer. “Gamzee, those are your mourning candles. No one’s died, have they?”

“Lots of uses for mournin’ candles brother,” he flinched at his own word choice, “I’ve been in mournin’ a long ass time without realizin’ it.”

“I’m almost scared to ask but, what are you mourning then?”

Gamzee sighed, standing he can hear Karkat backpedal like he was motherfucking afraid (good, an insidious part of his brain whispered, let him be afraid well and proper). He tilted his head back. Gamzee hesitates because he knows he can’t say it, Karkat would deny it now anyway. He turned to look Karkat, he looked so wary. “Why are you here, Karkat?”

He’s obviously taken aback by the question. The expression is only there for a second before the mask of anger and annoyance is back. “Well I’m your moirail aren’t I?” He says like that explains everything.

“Are you though? Motherfucker_ are you_?” Karkat’s hesitation says more than any words could and drives the fucking knife deeper into Gamzee’s pusher. “Karkat why the fuck are you here? For honest. No bullshit. Just tell me what the fuck you want.”

“I told you I came to check on you,” Karkat growled and it’s better than him trying to pretend to be gentle. “ Everyone gets fucking worried when you disappear like that. I’m the only one who bothered to come looking.”

“Tell ‘em they ain’t got a motherfucking thing to be worried about, I ain’t gonna haul off on no one.” Gamzee turns back to his alter, plopping down in front of it. “Yaknow what’s funny? What fills me with righteous fucking mirth?” Gamzee takes a breathe calming himself before continuing.

“I was one blind ass motherfucker, Karkat. But even a blind man can tell when he ain’t wanted. You wanted to know what’s the mourning for.” He can feel Karkat moving closer trying to get a peek at him or the alter and he tilts over so he can see the picture he put at the center. He hears the sharp intake of breath that tells him Karkat’s seen and understood it.

Their diamond broke a long time ago.

“You ain’t gotta pretend no more Karkat,” Gamzee says softly, “Hope you’re happy with him.”

Karkat doesn’t stay long after that. And Gamzee closes his eyes and laughs. It’s a joyless un-fucking-mirthful sound and there are tears streaming down his cheeks. He can feel his whole body shaking as sobs and laughter pour out of him. He hopes to Mirthful Messiahs they can hear it echoing through the meteor.


	2. Purpose

Gamzee’s stance was completely relaxed as he started down the training bot in front of him. There were several more surrounding him. His face painted in his usual colors but the lines were sharper, harsh-like and precise. The paint was sealed to avoid smearing from the activity he was preparing for. He had JokerKind equipped and ready though at the moment his hands were empty. Besides the bots he was alone. He mentally counted down from ten and the music he had set on a timer started and Gamzee came to life. 

He lunged at the bot, clubs appearing in his hands. Before the robot could react to his sudden movement, he struck it in the head with his left club on-beat with the music. This wasn’t just fighting it was a dance. A backflip to put space between him and the stunned bot. Lash out with the right arm, keep the left up in defense, hit the bot trying to flank him. Spin, kick, change weapons, strikeout with the knife. The knife embeds itself in the eye of one robot, off the mark. Seems like he’s getting rusty. 

And he’s no longer alone.

He jumps, backflips over the robot behind him. Kicks it in the back sending it into another robot. Throws the other knife, it hits a robot in the forehead. Another weapon change. His fists. Turns to face the rest of the robots. Gamzee catches a glance of the other person in the room and it causes a spike of anger. He channels that into his movements. Punch, feint, a sudden right hook, kick. He grabs the horns of the last robot and _ yanks _. There a crunch and fizz as the head comes off the body. He throws it at the wall and the music stops. 

_ Fuck. _

Gamzee barely broke a sweat, but it’ll take too much time to reset for another song. And he doesn’t feel like dealing with his guest yet. But apparently, it’s not up to him as he hears footsteps approach him. 

“Gamzee?” And fuck him for sounding so shy like back when they first meet. Gamzee turns to him, keeping the mania out of his expression. He fails apparently because Karkat takes a step back, fingers twitching like he’s going to go for his sickle. 

“What’s up Karkat?”

Karkat hesitates. “I wanted to catch up with you. Nobody’s seen you in a while.”

“ Prolly ‘cause I ain’t been around for no one to see.” Gamzee turns, this is not what he wants to be doing right now. He starts to pick up the robots, throwing them into the discard pile in the corner. 

“Then where have you been? It’s not like you to just disappear like this.” Gamzee sighs at this.

“Motherfucker what do you care?” Gamzee snaps, “Where I been at ain’t none of your fucking business.” He really doesn’t have any fucking patience for this. His shoulder fucking hurts and the whispers are starting to get louder again. Karkat looks terrified which means his voodoos are lashing out too. Gamzee forcefully reels himself in and turns away from him. Grabbing the last broken robots and throwing it on the pile. 

“I’m sorry.” 

The words give him pause, but the tone stops him dead in his tracks.

“Ain’t gotta be sorry for up and doin’ what’s in your motherfuckin’ heart.” As he leaves (finally) Gamzee knows that that response will hurt Karkat more than anything else. The dismissal will be taken for exactly what it is. Gamzee ignores the hollow feeling in his chest as he steps on the teleport (one only he knows about, that you have to go through the vents to get to) and leaves the meteor. 

He lands on an entirely different planet. He’s quiet as he approaches the grate. HE peers in and sees that his charges are asleep well and proper. He crouches down and empties his sylladex of any meat and candy in it. They’re finally old enough that he doesn’t have to get in there and feed them. So he drops their shit in and waits. Eventually, they will wake up and eventually one of them will win the war they didn’t know was being waged. And eventually, it’ll all be over. And Gamzee? Gamzee will be alone. Just as it was fucking meant to be.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to yell at me for this you can lmao.


End file.
